When You Fall Into A Well, Someone Will Catch You
by firefly-1770
Summary: The perfect relationship does not always last.  Dwelling in her sadness after Ron leaves her, Hermione finds comfort and passion in a man she never expected- the Prince of Slytherin. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but enjoy my imagination with J.K. Rowling's characters.

Chapter 1

"Darling, we have to get out of bed, it's nearly three in the afternoon." Hermione purred. Her breath tickled Ron's ear, sending a jolt through his body and straight to his groin.

"Do we have to? It's not like you have classes at your muggle university today…not that I understand why on earth you're even taking them…"

"They're good for me! Both my parents are muggles and in a way I'm accomplishing a dream that they had for me. It's not like its hard either, how these students find a 24-credit load impossible is beyond me. It takes me more time to write a potions essay for Snape than it does to do an entire week's coursework!"

"I know, I know, Hermione. Everyone knows how brilliant you are, I just don't see the point since you've already gotten your degree for St. Mungo's and could already be working as a healer, but instead you've decided to waste your time on knowledge completely useless for our kind!"

"How has this turned into an argument? I started off by just saying that we should get out of bed for a change, since we haven't left for almost 18 hours!"

"Because you didn't enjoy those 18 shags…"

"Oh shut it Ron. Anyways, I have to go see Ginny. We're going shopping before going out with Parvati and Padma." Hermione reached for her robe and slipped it on.

Ron sat up and stared at her body. His eyes were hard and he purposely avoided looking at Hermione in the face.

"What is it?" She said, dreading his answer.

"Where are you guys going?" Ron asked. His voice had an edge to it. Hermione knew that she had to choose her words wisely.

"Well, Ginny and I are going into muggle London to find some clothes, and then Padma has suggested this new club that's opening in the Wizarding section of Edinburgh… They have a floo network set up, so we were going to leave from Ginny's flat…"

"Haven't you been going out enough? You went to some bar last week with that girl, what's her name,"

"Susan?" Hermione ventured.

"Yeah, Susan, the Hufflepuff girl. I don't want you just going out and getting drunk and acting like a,"

"Like a what Ron? A slag? Is that what you think I'm doing when I'm out? How many bleeding times do I have to tell you, I LOVE YOU. There is only you! When I'm going out, it's so I can enjoy some time with my friends! My GIRL-friends. We like dancing, and drinking together, but that doesn't translate to me sticking my tongue down every bloke's throat!" Hermione was on the verge of tears.

Ever since she and Ron had moved in together, their relationship was feeling more stressful than happy. Ron was working for the Department of Mysteries, and was constantly active as Kepper for Harry's side-project of a quidditch team, the Stealth Stags. But the busier his life became, the more he tried to control Hermione. He wanted her all to himself, and as he gave up his social life as a party-boy, his jealousy flared when she stayed behind.

"I've seen how you are when you're out, when you've drinking too much. Merlin, do you know how hard it is to watch you!"

"Not as hard as it is to see you. You're no better! Should I remind you of that incident with that bitch from Hufflepuff two years ago? Thank god she wasn't slutty enough to accept your advances when you reeked of firewhisky. And you never even go out with me so how do you know what I'm like?"

"The last time I was with you, you were crying and vomiting in the bathroom."

"That was one time. I hadn't seen my friends in two months, and we took a few too many shots. I've already apologized to you."

"Whatever, 'mione. I know that there's nothing I can do. I can't control you and I can't tell you to stay away from your friends. I just worry about you, I care about you so much and I think that you're too smart to be doing all this stuff." Ron looked at her wistfully.

They had been together for so long, and he had always loved her. But he had fallen in love with the simple Hermione. The one that didn't care about her clothes, that would rather be in a library than a party (not that she didn't love both equally, but she had finally accepted the benefits to her wellbeing of the latter). Nonetheless, the more she found herself and grew as an adult, the less she needed him, and the more vulnerable he felt.

"Ron, I love you. With every ounce of my being. And I know that you don't like it when I go out, but I need it, for _me_. I need you to trust me, because I can't go and be myself when I'm worrying about you. I'm yours and you need to know that…I thought you did, but this conversation keeps coming up and we just need to establish where we are."

Ron sat up with his feet resting on the floor and just looked at her and nodded. She walked over to him, and standing between his legs looked down at his face and cradled it in her palm. She kissed him softly and felt his large rough hands moving gently up and down the backs of her slender legs.

"I have to go shower." She whispered to him.

"I could join you…" Ron said, his voice in a low growl.

"Oui oui, monsieur." A smile spread across Hermione's face as she wrapped her arms around Ron's neck and rested her chin on his muscular shoulder. Relief flooded through her body and she silently prayed that things would be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Ron's always been a twat, Hermione. You know that." Ginny said with an exasperated sigh. She turned back to the racks of designer clothing, flicking through each hanger and appraising it with one of her many faces ('not bad', 'who in their right mind would wear this!', 'THIS. IS. AMAZING.'…).

"I don't know, he's just been acting differently. It's like we finally found each other by the time Harry faced Voldemort, blah blah you know the story. And then when we were both studying for ministry work, we had three years of bliss! And now…I don't know Ginny, once we moved in together he started to act like we were married, and that I couldn't do the stuff I did during training years."

"Ron's grown up, Hermione. It's weird how that he gave it all up cold turkey, but Ron's random like that. Here, try this on." Harry walked out of nowhere and handed her a dress. He then turned to Ginny and snaked his arm around her waist before dipping her into a kiss. Ginny giggled and Hermione fought the urge to stare and watch. They were very photogenic, always posing for pictures at the gala's Harry attended, but Hermione and Ron always declined. Harry had to be in the spotlight, he was the face of good, and every school or event that honored him, he felt it his duty to attend…and publicize to the nth degree. Ginny was a blossoming socialite, though her accomplishments were equally burgeoning. She had always been clever, but she had the attitude and assertiveness to get anything she wanted.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, giving him a quick hug once he had finished ravaging Ginny before jealous onlookers.

"Ginny told me that there were troubled waters in paradise with you and our third wheel."

"Shh. There's nothing wrong. We're still incredibly happy, and we still spend mountains of time together…its just, different. We have less time for each other and with Ron's differences with me going out and such, things are just a bit hard. But we'll work through them, I mean I've dealt with Ron for the past 11 years, he's not going anywhere.

"Which is why we don't worry!" said Ginny, cocking her eyebrow to her friend before turning back to the racks.

Harry nodded but stayed with Hermione.

"Here, try this on." Harry pushed an emerald green, thigh-length dress, sleeveless and fitted with a high boat neck, reminiscent of the 50s with a little more leg.

"Why do you keep passing me clothing? I've gained some style in the past few years, I'm okay on my own."

Harry smirked at her and still handed her the dress.

"Yes, you've improved, but you still don't adorn your body the way you should. You should be glorifying yourself, Hermione. You're immeasurably sexy, in case you didn't know. That's half the reason Ron probably doesn't like you going out. Guys might try and seduce you…" He chuckled.

"But I'm not going to-"

"I know! You're not going to do anything! You're never going to let someone seduce you! I know."

Hermione frowned. Harry and Ginny really did know her too well. She took the dress and walked into the changing room. When she walked out, wearing the green dress, she felt 100% better.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 11/01/2011 19:42:00

Chapter 3

Hermione woke up with a throbbing headache, and a gaping abyss stabbing her heart. She could not dare to think about the events of the past 24 hours, and couldn't even bring herself to check her phone for messages or to even get up to look in a mirror. She felt like shit, both physically and emotionally. There was a trashcan beside the bed, and after a few moments of staring at the ceiling and the room around her, she realized that she was not even in her bed. Ginny walked into the room holding a cup of tea and looked at her with comforting eyes.

"I can't even-" Hermione began, and instantly she felt her eyes well with tears.

"Shhh, you don't have to say a word." She put the tea down and crawled onto the bed. She took Hermione in her arms and cradled her. Hermione felt streams running down her cheeks, unable to stop thing or face the cause of their outpour.

"How could he-"

"I don't know sweetheart. I just know how much it hurts. I'm here, it's okay."

_24 Hours Ago…_

"Hermione, have you seen my blue tie? You know, the skinny one with red stripes." Ron peered around the bathroom door as Hermione brushed her teeth.

"Urmmm," she spit out the toothpaste, "check the small dresser? With your socks? I might have put it there by accident."

"Thanks love." He turned and walked back to the bathroom.

Things seemed to be going well. Hermione was focusing on her classes and was spending more time with Ron, who on the other hand, was spending less and less time at home. Still, he was acting normally and they were finally arguing less.

"Okay, I have to run to the Ministry. I won't be home for dinner, so go out if you want."

Hermione turned to him quizzically. He kept staying late at work for some reason or another, but now he was even telling her to go out.

"First of all, you hate it when I go out. And second of all, why this time? I haven't seen you in ages."

"I know, I just- look, Hermione, I have a lot of responsibility at the Ministry now, and that means that sometimes I have to stay late and represent the department. Like today, Lavender and I-"

"You spend so much bloody time with Lavender, but she's not your girlfriend, I am!"

"Hermione, calm down. She works with me at the ministry, and her friendship has become very important to me. When I have to stay late and work, she usually has to also, but there's nothing between us."

"So what is it tonight? A dinner conference? A charity gala? You've been to three functions in the past month with her by your side, but you never want to go to the ones that we get invited to. You just say that Harry is enough."

"Hermione, you don't work in the ministry! Why would you want to be there? Lavender has to go to them as well, so we just go together. And enough about her anyways! I told you there's nothing going on between us, just leave it. I have to go."

Ron drained his cup of tea and placed it in the kitchen. Hermione stood in the doorway of their bathroom, toothbrush still in hand, contemplating what had just happened. Ron walked past her, and opened the door to leave. He looked back at her and muttered "bye" before letting it shut behind him.

"He actually told you to come out tonight? That's weird. But all the better! We have such a night planned, don't we girls?" Ginny grinned mischievously at Hermione and their mates. "There's a restaurant opening, and then some of the lads from the Wimborne Wasps are throwing a party in the West End. It should be marvelous."

Hermione smiled and forced herself to enjoy the night. Ron had told her to go out, obviously he wanted her to have a good time…

During dinner Hermione could not help checking her phone constantly, waiting to hear from Ron. When he hadn't texted her by 10, which was unusual, she messaged him, asking him how his evening was going. Within minutes she had a response.

_10:04 PM: It's fine. We'll talk in the morning._

Well that was unusual. Why wouldn't they talk tonight? And talk about what? They obviously always had something to talk about, but they never explicitly told each other they'd talk to the other at another time. She hit reply.

_10:06 PM: Talk about what? Is everything okay?_

Her phone vibrated a minute later.

_10:07 PM: We'll just talk later. _

Hermione could feel her stomach tighten, and felt the heat rising in her face. Her mind was going numb, and she needed to get some air. She looked at Ginny and excused herself, saying that she needed to take a call. Ginny stared at her friend, knowing that something was wrong.

Outside, Ginny found Hermione walking around in circles, taking deep breaths and closing her eyes.

"Mione, what's going on?"

Hermione stopped walking.

"I don't know, I don't know! Ron's scaring me, he says we have to talk, and when I asked him what it was about, he just said we'll talk later, and I don't know what to do."

"Give me your phone." Ginny strode up to Hermione and plucked the silver PDA from her hands, and pressed the R button for speed dial.

Ron picked up in seconds.

"Hermione, I really don't want to talk on the phone about this, okay?" His voice was low and passive.

"Ronald Weasly, what the fuck is going on! Hermione's having a nervous breakdown, and you're going to stop it right now."

"Ginny, stay out of this. This is not your relationship."

Hermione could hear him from afar, and walked up and grabbed the phone. She felt the 2 glasses of wine stir in her stomach.

"What is it? Don't lie to me, and don't try to get out of this now. You can't tell me that 'we need to talk' but make me wait until the morning. That's not fair."

"Hermione, I don't want to do this over the phone, okay?"

"Do what exactly?" She held her voice at an icy pitch but felt her body crumble as she realized that her worst fears were actually happening.

"I…I don't think we should be together anymore." He said, and let out an audible breath.

Hermione felt her eyes water and began to lose balance, teetering on the massive heels Ginny had insisted she wear for 'self confidence'. Ginny grabbed her and sat her on the bench. Others dwelling outside the restaurant gave her space, continuing to smoke their cigarettes and socialize on the other side of the entrance. Hermione continued to glue the phone to her ear, despite the sobs erupting from her body.

"Wh-why?" She managed to croak. Ron sighed again.

"I just…I lost the feeling, Hermione. We kept it going for so long, and we've had such amazing years together, but we've grown apart, I just don't feel the same way about you. I'm sorry."

Hermione doubled over, as if someone had stabbed her in the gut.

"So you don't love me anymore?" She whispered.

"I'll always love you, Hermione. But not in that way. We've shared a life for too long, I need to have…my own time."

Hermione's mind flooded with agony. She dropped her phone and held herself in a ball, sobbing without restraint before curious onlookers. Ginny grabbed the phone and Hermione could hear the feisty redhead tear out her brother's ear. But it didn't help. Nothing could help. Hermione had never felt so alone.

At some point she had twisted her ankle but by this point she couldn't feel anything. Hermione stumbled over to the bar of the Wasps' Captain Avery Millwood's penthouse apartment. She looked gorgeous despite the bags under her eyes, which Ginny had artfully disguised with makeup and cosmetic spells. To everyone else, she just looked like a drunk, beautiful witch. She grabbed onto Parvati's arm and stood up to look the bartender in the eye.

"I would like…" she slurred, "two shots of firewhisky. No, no, make that three. In a line. And I need lime! Lots of it." Hermione smiled at her own lame joke and Parvati winced but kept supporting her friend.

"Someone's looking to have a good time tonight…" one of the Wasps' chasers, Spencer McDonohue said with a snicker, as he poured out the alcohol.

"Hey. Don't talk to me that way." Hermione snapped, looking at him with her dart-like eyes. "My boyfriend, of FIVE years, broke up with me tonight. For no bloody reason. I can drink however much I want, thank you, without your crude remarks."

"So you're drinking to forget…"

"So what if I am. I deserve it after what I've been through tonight."

Parvati signaled for Harry and Ginny to come over and attend their best friend. Her attempts to babysit her were failing.

"Good luck.." she muttered as Harry scooped an arm around Hermione's waist and held her up.

"Take it easy there, you're not the size of Grawp, party girl. Why don't we each take a shot, instead of you taking three. Ready?"

Hermione just nodded her head and let the liquid slide down her already numb throat. She had already finished half a bottle of 90 proof vodka and was not going to have an easy night at this rate. Once she put the shot glass down, she put her arms around Harry's neck and closed her eyes as she rested her head on his shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes.

"We should take her home…" Ginny said, grabbing Hermione's clutch from the counter. Harry nodded and picked up the intoxicated witch, taking her outside. When the cold air hit her, Hermione felt her mind awaken, but she dared not open her eyes. Instead she pretended to still be blissfully passed out as she allowed her mind to go over the gravity of what had happened.

Harry felt his best friend's body shake in his arms, but let her cry in peace as they walked home.


	4. Chapter 4

16/01/2011 15:50:00

Chapter 4

Hermione looked around the small, one-bedroom flat she had found with Ginny a few days earlier. It had been two weeks since 'that night,' and after forcing herself to take each day at a time, here she was, standing in a flat that did not feel like home, with boxes stacked in every corner.

She felt her phone vibrate and pulled it out. It was a message from Harry.

_6:45 PM: Everything will be alright, Hermione. We'll stop by later on tonight. Has the furniture arrived yet? Keep in touch. H&G_

After spending two weeks in the guest bedroom of Harry and Ginny's townhouse, though Hermione could still feel their care and support, she could also acknowledge their exhaustion from babysitting her every evening. She smiled inwardly at their efforts.

_6:48 PM: It's okay. And you don't need to come check up on me tonight, I'm a big girl. The furniture hasn't arrived yet, but it should be here by 8. I'll talk to you guys in the morning. –Mione_

Harry and Ginny had been wonderful to her. She could admit that. But in the pit of her stomach, Hermione began contemplating the enormous strain this breakup would have on her relationship with the couple. First off, Ron was Ginny's brother. Second, Harry and Ron were best friends. Though her friendships were equally strong, there was something ominous about how everything would play out.

Hermione thought about the situation for weeks, meticulously organizing the rest of her life without Ron, and the chance that her closest friends would distance themselves in order to stay out of loyalty battles. They would be there, but there was the chance that she could no longer confide in them.

But would that happen? Would they distance themselves from her? Hermione talked herself in circles, questioning their characters for the first time since they became friends. No one had done anything wrong, in a general aspect, but Hermione could not estimate the aftermath of such a fracture in their core group.

More than anything, however, Hermione could not acknowledge nor suppress her loneliness. She and Ron had been an entity in themselves, a couple opposite Harry and Ginny, a duo that comprised their lives with each other.

Where was she now? Hermione, the witch prized for her intelligence, cleverness, courage and ambition, was suddenly questioning her own character. Who was she without Ron and Harry? Yes, she was an astonishingly successful, intelligent witch that could master any academic feat placed in her way. But beyond her accomplishments—who was she without them? They were her life, and now she had none.

Hermione began to see the reverberations of the split by the end of the season. The summer was beginning, and with a three month holiday between the end of her muggle calendar and the start of her work at St. Mungo's, she began searching for a way to fill her free time.

Her apartment had finally come together, after two months of decorating and redecorating, dwelling on small details and wasting hours of time focusing on her new project. In a way, her apartment had to symbolize her new life, one without what had always been her other half.

Ginny had told her that her independence and freedom should feel liberating and invigorating. That under the pain, there was this little strip of light. It took Hermione some time to accept the idea.

Finally, once London cleared up and the gardens and parks were flowing with greenery, Hermione felt her spirit lift, feeling ready, and maybe even excited, to begin anew.

She had stayed close with Ginny and Harry for the most part, but when they felt she was getting on her feet, they got on with their lives and acted normal. They were neutral in the breakup, and didn't want to interfere.

As it was, though, by the time Hermione ended her muggle schooling term, she was seeing the pair infrequently, and their communication had become lazy and only polite. They would talk about school, Ginny's new ventures, or the progress of Harry's many charities. Their personal lives were no longer involved with each others, and conversation never ventured in that direction.

Hermione had woken up one morning to see Harry and Ron posing for a picture at some event at Beauxbatons, with an attached article on the front page of the Daily Prophet. They were vacationing in the area and attended together, while 'Ginerva Weasley remained in London to attend the annual Ministry Spring Ball (picture inset)'.

It had been the first true sign that their lives were growing apart. She always knew what was going on, but here she was, oblivious to the fact that they were in France together. Even more surprising, Ginny hadn't said a word, nor invited her out as she usually would, given Harry's absence.

After a week of holiday, no word from her friends, and nothing ot occupy her time, Hermione allowed her conscience to finally admit the truth: she had no life. She had a C.V. that could grant her any job, in the muggle world or the wizarding world, but she had no one to congratulate her or talk to her about it.

She picked up her phone and called Ginny. As distanced as she felt, maybe the feisty redhead would be herself with her once maid of honor.

"Hello?" Ginny's voice sounded far away and uninterested with the call. Hermione could hear voices and cheering in the background.

"Ginny? It's Hermione. Where are you? It's so loud."

"Hermione? Hi! How are you?" Hermione heard Ginny whisper 'It's 'mione. I'll be off soon.'

"I'm good! I've been on holiday for about a week now, I was getting bored. What are you up to? We haven't seen each other in ages. Harry especially! It seems like he's always out."

"Oh that's great, Hermione. I'm with him right now actually! We're on tour."

"Tour?"

"For the Stealth Stags. We have 15 matches in 10 different countries, and only a month and a half for them, and whoever comes out with the best score goes on to the world cup. It's all very exciting."

"Oh! Well, that sounds like fun." Hermione feigned excitement. Ron was with them then. The three of them were going to be together for most of the summer.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I would've told you, but Harry didn't want to hurt your feelings since were going to be with Ron a lot…"

"No, no it's okay. I might take a trip somewhere. I'll let you know or something, okay? Have fun!"

Hermione hung up. She couldn't bear it. The laughter, the cheering, this stupid tour. She should have been there. They should've all been together, having a laugh, drinking pitchers of iced mead while she watched her boyfriend lead the team to victory.

But she wasn't. She would never be there.

Hermione grabbed a silver beaded clutch from her wardrobe. She had kept the purse since their adventures before The Fall. She went through her flat and packed everything. Clothing for every climate, belongings she would miss after a few weeks. She left money on the counter for two month's rent with a letter for her landlord stating that if she should need to send in more rent money, she would. Lastly she wrote a brief letter to Harry and Ginny, stating that she was leaving and traveling for some time and would write soon. She didn't tell them where she was going, because in truth, she had no idea.

The only thing that stuck in Hermione Granger's mind was the fact that she had enough saved up to take care of herself, and that she needed to get out lest her loneliness consume every working part of her body.


	5. Chapter 5

16/01/2011 16:38:00

Chapter 5

Hermione surveyed the line ahead of her. Ten extra galleons and she could skip the line and floo from the 'First Class' Floo network. But who was she, the Minister of Magic? She could wait in a line.

She looked at the pamphlet in her hands as she stood there. Barcelona, Florence, Vienna, Hamburg, Paris, L.A., New York… she had many options and time was ticking. The wizarding travel agency was bustling with families going on holiday, couples retreating, and a few individuals like herself. All she had to do was pick a place, and they would connect her.

"And here I was, under the assumption that Hermione Granger was so impatient that she'd never be found waiting in a line. I always thought you'd be at the front, arguing with the ticket man to let you through for some meaningless reason or another. But here you are…"

Hermione could hear the velvet drawl of a voice she'd been able to escape for the past four years.

"Well I never thought I'd see you stoop this low to even stand in a line, Malfoy."

"Touche. But unfortunately, I need to avoid public attention right now. It's all a bit hush-hush, though I doubt you have the capacity to ever keep your mouth shut about anything."

"I don't give 2 knuts about why you are standing in a god damn line, Malfoy. All I know is that it was much more pleasant before you got here."

"Oh, I've been here the whole time, Granger. I just didn't recognize you without that ghastly mane that you used to call hair, or your perfectly pressed and shining Hogwarts uniform. I didn't know you had real clothes, actually."

"Some people never change, do they…"

"Well, given the laws of nature, as you would know, that is impossible."

Hermione's eyes blazed. As sad as it was, this verbal spar with Malfoy was the most exciting encounter she had had in days. Plus, Malfoy may still have his tongue, but he had shaped up over the past few years. After renouncing his involvement with his father's matters and his brief stint as a death eater, Malfoy had used his disgusting charm to build his own empire. Hermione had kept an eye on the company in the media and business world, finding it increasingly surprising that they were earning a good reputation and seemed to have fair terms for all workers. After Voldemort, it seemed as if Malfoy had stopped harassing muggle-borns, displaying that he either really didn't care, or that he was too tired to keep trying.

"I've been seeing the other two glory children in the news a lot. Did you finally realize how obnoxious they are, or is it the other way around?"

Hermione cringed at his words. He was such a twat.

"Could you please go be a wanker with someone else? And for your information I'm going to join them." Hermione spoke with as much confidence as she could muster, given the horrendousness of such a claim.

She was now second in line for the fireplace, and was eager to get away from the little Slytherin Prince.

"Suit yourself, Granger. Have a nice trip." He said, his usual drawl dripping in sarcasm.

Hermione glared at him one last time before turning to the agent. She had forgotten to decide on a location and looked down at the pamphlet hurriedly.

"Um, Florence. Florence, Italy."

The agent nodded, waved his wand at the fireplace while muttering an incantation, and beckoned her step inside.

"Please keep all arms and legs by your side, say your destination clearly when the green flames surround you, and have a safe trip. Thank you for choosing Melvin's Travel Port." The man said, his voice monotone from the rehearsed speech.

Hermione held her bag to her chest and prepared herself. As the flames grew around her, she caught Malfoy staring at her. His eyes were not showing the usual menacing glare, but were searching her, as if wondering what was going on. She tore her eyes away and looked down.

"Florence!"

She was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

19/01/2011 22:17:00

A/N: Don't own anything, just a reminder. But on another note, thank you for your patience! I am a college student and I have a pretty much full time job… needless to say I don't find a lot of time to write. But I cranked this one out for you, though it was my pleasure as usual. But its nice and big and juicy for you, so enjoy, and review if it tickles your fancy

Chapter 6

Hermione dusted herself off and found herself in the middle of a one room place. On one side there was a kitchenette and a two person table, and on the other side, a small desk and bookcase in one corner, and a two person couch and a television in the other. Straight in front of her was the door, on either side of which were two dusty windows, located high enough to stay from street view. Sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading a book was a young witch about Hermione's age.

"Benvenuti a Firenze."

Hermione looked at the woman. She had a mysterious look about her, and she spoke with a tone that seemed to wink at you. Her long wavy brown hair swept down tanned shoulders. Hermione regarded her with a hint of jealousy, despising that she could not pull off red skinny jeans the size of toothpicks without having a muffin-top, hence why she especially could not wear them with a black and white striped itty-bitty t-shirt.

"Erm, Grazie."

The girl had a cat like smile, and smirked at Hermione. She then got up and suddenly popped out a card.

"Mi chiamo Lara. Here is my phone number if you need anything. I'm required to give it to you, just don't call me for directions, I wont give them to you." Hermione was surprised when her English came out flawless. Lara bounced back to her seat and picked up her book, pouring herself into it as if Hermione had never walked in.

"Erm, thanks." Hermione muttered, and walked out the door.

As she closed the door, Hermione realized she was standing in the middle of a bustling city neighborhood. Across the street was a tiny café with two small tables stuck on the curb outside. People were packed inside, and each table sat three Italian women, either chatting amongst themselves in rapid Italian or gabbing away on their cell phones and puffing down their long, skinny cigarettes. Further down were vegetable and fruit stands, and sellers offering leather purses and knock-off designer bags.

It took her a moment to take the scene in before she could move any further. With the noise of the city, she didn't hear or take notice that the door had opened. She did, on the other hand, hear a very familiar snicker emit from behind her.

"So, Miss Granger, where are these dear friends of yours?"

Hermione cringed.

"Oh wait!" he continued, "it is _you_ that I'm dealing with, so surely you know where they are. Have you got the address marked somewhere? Or did you memorize it?"

Hermione felt like she was an ice cream melting from the heat of her fury, but more realistically, her embarrassment. How was she going to cover this up? His voice sounded more gleeful by the word, blatantly gloating in his triumph.

Hermione tried to summon a sharp retort to her lips but failed. She had lied, and he had caught her. She didn't know where the hell she was, she didn't even have a map! The one person she knew was Lara, the girl sitting inside.

Hermione whirled around, her summer dress blossoming around her. She knew it was a dramatic move, but without any words coming to her mouth anytime soon, it was the most she could do to stall him. An aggressive silent response. She caught him staring at her body as the dress fell gracefully to her sides, the white frilly fabric landing just above her knees, his face flashing with awe and desire before reaching her eyes. She smiled mercilessly to herself as she caught eye contact with him, her eyes burning with fury and power as his transformed from jubilant to terrified.

For a moment, Hermione had submitted the infamous Draco Malfoy to her prowess, not that she hadn't done it before. However, it _only _lasted a moment. When she failed to say anything back, her opponent exposed her for the fraud she really was.

"Speechless, Granger? Is my mind deceiving me, or have I just caught you in a lie?"

He was like a spider encroaching on his caught prey. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. She didn't know what she would've said, but anything to defend her honor.

"But no, no-no, this cannot be, for surely Hermione Granger, witch extraordinaire, triumphant of evil!—surely she could not lie, especially about those wonderful, loving Potter-lings."

"Malfoy, don't you have some muggle strip club to slime off to? I can hardly imagine anything else would be so 'hush-hush' with you, the biggest media whore in the business-wizarding world." Hermione held up her index and middle fingers, making quotation marks in the air to mock him. "Or do you have nothing better to do with your life than terrorize mine for the few minutes we have to bear each others presence?"

Malfoy regarded her. At least she had said something, and it was _mildly_ offensive. Being a media whore wasn't a bad thing. In fact, a picture of him going to a muggle strip club might make the previous 'muggle-born vs. pureblood' phase a little less important.

"I can go see naked girls no matter where I am or what time it is. But I never have to pay for them, the chase is too much fun to give up." He rolled off his tongue. His eyes glinted with mirth and cunning.

Hermione scowled at him. She hated that he didn't have to try, that she had nothing to say, and that she didn't know what in Merlin's name she was going to do. More than anything, however, she hated the words that he just said.

Girls were nothing to him, play toys for big boys. It was a game to get them in bed, and then once they won the game they got bored. And who suffered? Girls like her. Girls who get left after years of devotion.

Hermione frowned as she considered the last thought that had flowed from her head. She was different. She wasn't one of those girls, though she felt that she might as well have been. No, those girls didn't seep into depression for months when they never got a follow-up text or phone call from their mysterious blonde one night stand. They said "fuck you Malfoy" and were done with it. Hermione wished that she could simply say "fuck you Ron" and be done with it, but even after almost half a year of separation, she couldn't move on just like that.

She knew it was natural, but for a moment, a large part of her began to envy the girls that were seduced by men like Draco Malfoy. At least they didn't get their hearts broken. Or their lives destroyed.

Hermione didn't realize that she had been silent for almost 30 seconds. She had just stood there, staring at him and scowling as her mind raced. Malfoy decided to keep pushing her, curious to watch her tick.

"Do you need a glass of water to clear your throat? Or have I burned your virgin ears, Granger?"

Hermione closed her eyes, trying to find the courage to verbally shred him. However, when she opened them, she only sighed and lowered her eyes. Why was she even putting herself through this? Her efforts were futile and in the end, she really didn't care. Her escape from London was in an effort to regain her happiness, not get slandered by Draco Malfoy.

"Fine. You win. I'm not here to see Ron, Harry or Ginny. I actually have no idea where they are. I don't—"

"Outside Zurich." Malfoy helped. "There's a match tomorrow."

"Oh."

"The truth suits you better, Granger. In fact, it suits me better too. If you didn't lie to me, I wouldn't have started lying to you about being a serial seducer."

Hermione scoffed.

"You're saying that you're not? Weren't you spotted with some 5 different Merlin's Maidens models in one week? I may read books, but I also indulge in knowing everything about the wizarding world. Even the pig-headed bachelors like you."

"Are you saying that you've been stalking me, Granger?"

"Shut it, Malfoy. As sad as it is to say this, there are more than one of you in this world."

"Well, this might all be well and true, but unlike some other boys, I don't like to dip my hands into every candy bucket that comes my way. Hasn't anyone ever told you? Don't believe everything you read."

Just then, Draco felt the back pocket of his jeans vibrate and pulled out his phone. A text that usually would've seemed perfectly natural and acceptable suddenly didn't feel right. For a moment, Draco Malfoy prayed he wouldn't be exposed. He felt his face heat as he read the message from his best friend.

_Blaise Zabini— 3:28 PM: Mate, what's that agency you go to? I'm digging this whole 'one night stand with a twist' deal. It's like having one on vacation but the location is a total surprise. I need to periodically pop by so I can find a hot witch, so let me know._


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: It's been awhile. Again, no characters are mine, they rightfully belong to Madame Rowling. But enjoy the story nonetheless.

Chapter 7

Draco Malfoy had never considered himself an irrational man. He loved his money, and his money loved him. He didn't like girls that loved his money, and not him, so he liked to stay away from them. This, he figured, was a rational decision.

Therefore, he found that to satisfy his cravings for intimacy, the most rational choice was to invest in an exclusive, impeccably discrete, professional Wizarding escort service. In exchange for anything between 5,000 to 100,000 Galleons, depending on the location, duration, and requests by the customer, a wealthy Wizard (or Witch) could indulge himself with the company of a beautiful individual without being caught in the public eye or exposed. It was safe and reliable, the women appeared like fabulous, traveling socials, and at the end of the day, it was a finalized transaction, and they could part ways.

Draco Malfoy didn't mind spending his money, even if the product purchased was something he could easily get for free. When something is free, he believed, that something wants, or will want, something back in return. This alternative made things simple. He paid, and he got. He was not wanted afterwards, unless he wanted more.

More than anything, the women he met on these excursions were not interested in landing a diamond ring on their fingers, or presiding as Mistress of Malfoy Manor. They did not want him to take them on shopping sprees, or buy the entire new House of Griselda Warlock Summer collection. They enjoyed the comforts associated with their occupation, but did not take advantage of them. They were simple.

Draco liked simple. As convoluted and entangled as his public and business lives were, his personal life was simple. He had a bachelor image to maintain, but that was purely to keep the spotlight on him and his empire. If people thought he was frivolous and wild, they would consistently keep a close and scrutinizing eye on his companies. When they could find no slip-ups, frauds, miscalculations, sketchy partnerships or mergers, or anything that did not signal Draco Malfoy's rising success, all that was left was a positive public image. He might be a socialite, he might be photographed with dozens of models crowded around him on a weekly basis, but he was not a failure. On the contrary, he was lauded for his accomplishments so frequently that the attention almost rivaled that deemed worthy to the Lord and Savior Harry Potter.

He enjoyed his life. He was able to direct all of his energy into his work, and could receive company and pleasure whenever he saw fit. He didn't have to get to know anyone unless he wanted to, and he didn't have to worry about their feelings, let alone wonder if their feelings were for him or for his money.

Over the past four years, Draco had built himself a nice cushion of a life. He believed that he had everything he needed and wanted. However, as he stood on the dusty curbside of a narrow, Florentine cobblestone road, staring at the text from his fellow Slytherin while the blazing eyes of Hermione Granger pierced his chest, he did not feel perfect. He felt far from perfect. For the first time since his abandonment of the Dark Arts and his family's legacy, he felt alone and he felt vulnerable. He did not want Hermione to discover the truth of his existence. She would find it disgusting and shameful, and if her judgment of him weren't already down the tube, this would push it into the depths that reached far below the caves and vaults of Gringotts. She would never think differently of him, and more than anything, she would make him actually feel humiliated.

Draco had time to save himself at that point. He was supposed to meet Ramona, the only companion who he saw with some consistency. She could easily be cancelled. They didn't meet for sex, but rather for general company. She didn't mind him, and he didn't mind her. For a few hours they would walk around a city of Draco's choice, sometimes exchanging stories, sometimes remaining completely silent. They would eat a meal together, sometimes explore the muggle and magical historical sights, and sometimes just sit next to each other for extended periods of time, enjoying the presence of someone that doesn't judge them or want to go deeper. In a way, Draco paid to have Ramona as a friend, but in reality he paid for her silence and her character while with him. Like the other girls that worked for the agency, she was an actress. Yes, he knew her to some extent, and knew that she was the best choice for his "friend", but at the end of the day, she could transform herself into anyone he wanted. At the end of the day, she was a fabrication.

The girl standing in front of him, however, was so pure and so real that the force of her being terrified him. As much as she might judge him, Hermione was the last person interested in his wealth. And apart from their bitter hatred for each other during their school years, she wasn't too different from him. They were both quick, clever, intelligent, and ambitious. Hermione had a personality, one that seemed to actually wake him from his usual slumber. If she didn't hate him, Draco ventured to consider what possibilities could unfold between them.

He could still feel Hermione's eyes upon him. He looked at her, silently admiring the rich caramel color of her eyes, and the cascading waves that fell down over her shoulders and shined radiantly on her flawless skin.

"It seems as though my plans here have actually been cancelled. So unless you plan on standing here for the rest of your trip abroad, would you like to come dine with me? I'm already in Italy, I might as well enjoy a nice supper before traveling back." Draco asked her. His stomach tightened into a knot as he spoke, and seemed to clench even tighter as he awaited her response.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. His tone lacked its usual sneer, but she could never be sure with him.

At the same time, she doubted she would encounter any more plans, and was already feeling lost as it was.

"Ermmm, sure. Okay. But the moment you start acting like a weasel again I swear I will turn you into one, I don't care how many muggles I have to obliviate afterwards. Got it?"

Draco smirked. "Yes, Captain."

Inside, Draco Malfoy let out a celebratory whoop before forcing himself to remember who he was, who she was, and what this would lead to. He could not get his hopes up, though he was not sure what his hopes necessarily were. He only knew that he was having dinner with a witch that didn't seem to like that he was rich, but rather despised him for it. For once, he had an opportunity to convince someone that he wasn't all that bad.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please review!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Bottle of your finest mead for the table, and I'll start with a shot of firewhisky, on the rocks, _per favore_." Draco rolled off, as his eyes glazed over the drink menu.

"_Si, Signore. E per la Signorina_?" The young waiter asked.

Hermione looked up at the waiter and muttered, "One moment, please."

She took her time looking through the various categories, inspecting the vintage and the location of the various wines and liquors.

"I'll start with a glass of the _'78 Castello di Brolio-Ricasoli Chianti Classico, per favore_." She said, her voice shaking a little as she slowly pronounced the foreign words.

"_Sua fidanzata ha buon gusto, Signore_." The waiter said, beaming as he looked from Hermione to Draco. "Excellent choice, _Signorina_."

"Oh, she's, erm, not my girlfriend." Draco said with a hint of embarrassment in his voice that did not elude his dinner companion. "But yes, she does have excellent taste, if I do say so myself." He looked up at her, his eyes flashing flirtatiously.

"_Allora_, I will come with your drinks _a presto_."

As the waiter scurried away, Draco put his menu down and sat back comfortably in his chair. He gazed at Hermione, who was sitting on the edge of her seat, back straight and head bent as her eyes devoured the menu. She didn't notice him evaluating her, watching her every movement and mentally recording it, as if the post dinner activity consisted of a pop-quiz on the peculiarities of Hermione Granger.

"So, Granger, what glorious interests have you pursued over the past few years since your adventures with Potterling and Weaselbum? Anything that has tickled your fancy as much as being an know-it-all?"

Hermione's eyes darted from the menu to Draco, and she glared malevolently.

"You think I was joking when I said I would turn you into a weasel, Malfoy, but you're wrong. I warned you, I'm not afraid to use my wand in public if it means making you a better human being."

Draco snickered, but once he caught Hermione still glowering at him, muttered an apology and wiped the smirk off his face.

"Fine. I was just trying to make pleasantries. What have you been doing since we left Hogwarts? Is that polite enough for you?"

"Some effort would be nice, but if that's all you can give me then I'll take it. I finished studying to be a healer at St. Mungo's over a year ago, and I just received my diploma for a degree in science from the muggle university, Oxford."

"And you wasted your time with the latter…why?"

Hermione scoffed at him.

"Just because muggle studies are less relevant to our kind does not make them useless. Muggles have incredible ways of managing problems without magic, and more wizards and witches should learn them."

Draco let out a hoot of laughter, and Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

"You think that their 'inventions' are going to be useful for our kind? What can they do that we can't do better with magic? Hmm?"

"Muggle-haters are such hypocrites." Hermione replied, shaking her head as she sat back in her seat.

"Oh really? And how is that?" Draco asked, leaning forward, eager to enter a verbal sparring match.

"See that device in your pocket? Your mobile phone? Muggle technology. Televisions? Cars?"

"I don't have a car. And I despise television. Why watch someone else do something that isn't real, when you can go out and experience something for yourself?"

"That still leaves the cell phone." This time Hermione smirked, and she arched her eyebrow to him.

"Fine. One point for muggles, shall we give them a trophy?"

"You don't have to be so condescending towards them. A little appreciation, or even admiration for what they have been able to do without magic, would be nice."

"Hermione, I am not my father. I do not hate muggles, but that doesn't mean that I love them. And it certainly doesn't mean that I am required to admire them when I do not think that they are as capable as us." His tone was finite, and Hermione could hear the speech that lurked behind his words.

Years of battling the press, displacing himself from the shroud of anti-muggle criticism and the affiliation his surname had with the dark period, everything that he had struggled to free himself from, revolved around the words he just spoke. Yes, at the beginning he had forced himself to show signs of respect and likeness to muggles, but by now, this answer was satisfactory. He was not a hater, but he was not a lover. He was neutral, and would remain fair in his decisions, but would never be their savior like Potter.

"Fine. Well why don't we just enjoy our drinks then and let this be." Hermione took a sip of her wine.

"You really do have great taste."

Hermione cocked her eyebrow.

"That wine is absolutely brilliant." He continued. "Very rare, you can only find it in certain places. What made you choose it?"

Hermione put her glass down.

"I…I don't know. I'm not very familiar with wine, and when I couldn't decide I just chose one at random. I didn't see the price until I ordered it, but I figured then that it must be good."

"Well?" He asked, his voice sounding sincerely interested.

"Well what?"

"Is it worth it? Does the product match the price?"

Hermione blushed faintly. "I think so? Again, I'm not very good with wines. It tastes nice though. It has a little bit of a bite, but I like it enough to drink the rest."

"May I?" Draco asked, reaching for the glass. Hermione nodded.

He swirled the wine around in his glass before sticking his nose in to smell the aromas. He let out a faint 'mmm' and took a small sip. He moved the liquid around in his mouth for a few moments and finally swallowed.

"Magnificent. Where is the waiter? Ah, _scusa. Una bottiglia, per favore._"

The waiter beamed, yelped "Si signore!" and rushed off, eagerly awaiting his sizeable tip.

"That good?" Hermione asked, smiling in amusement.

"Hold on. I'll show you."

Hermione looked quizzically at him but remained silent. The waiter returned with another glass and the bottle and poured their glasses.

"Ok, I want you to do what I did." Draco instructed. "Swirl around the wine, that lets it breathe, and by exposing it to more oxygen it releases the flavor."

Hermione did as she was told.

"Now smell." Draco dove his nose into the glass and inhaled. Hermione followed suit, looking up at him periodically to make sure she wasn't making a fool of herself. "What do you smell?" He asked.

"Um…" Hermione brought the glass up to her nose again for another sniff. "Erm, raspberry?"

Draco nodded his head in consent. "What else?"

Hermione smelled it again. "Cinnamon?" Draco nodded his head, and gestured for her to keep going. "I think I smell cherry? And, this sounds weird, but a little bit of leather?"

"You've got a great nose, Granger. Now taste. Let it move around in your mouth, and really try to taste it before you swallow."

Hermione did as she was told before sitting back in her chair and looking at Draco with an expression that confused him.

"Yes?"

"Where did you learn all of this?"

Draco chuckled. "Would you like to know the truth?"

"Obviously." Hermione said with a grin.

"Back in our fifth and sixth years, Blaise and I would have our house elves send us packages of wine, really nice wine, and we would get drunk in the Slytherin common room. Since we did it so often, I started to get a grasp of tasting the wine." Draco explained as he took another sip of wine.

"Scandalous. I'm not too surprised though."

"Either way. That's where the experience came from." Draco replied with a shrug.

The pair sat in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say next. They had never actually spent time together until now. The extent of their relationship thus far consisted of constant bickering and a deep-set rivalry that dated back to their first year at Hogwarts.

Draco suddenly cleared his throat, took a sip of wine, and looked directly at Hermione.

"Look," he began, "I know we've never been friends before. I doubt we'll ever be that close but I think we can be…er, acquaintances." He looked down and began to fidget with his hands. Hermione could notice a faint shade of pink rise over his ears.

"You mean to say that we should be friends?" She corrected.

"I mean don't take this too far, but sure. I'm quite different than the boy I was at Hogwarts, and you seem to have changed from the nosy bookworm that wanted to avenge all evil, so I don't see why we can't get to know each other."

Hermione's mind was racing. Who was this person that had replaced the Draco Malfoy she loved to hate? And why did he want to befriend her? It was already strange enough that they were eating together, but that was due to the coincidence of being in the same place at the same time. But friends? They had nothing in common besides issues that they fought for on _rival_ sides.

At the same time, however, Hermione weighed her options. She was in a foreign country, she had no clue as to what she was planning on doing, and here he was, as if he had magically appeared and wanted to befriend her when she felt no one else even cared to know what she was up to. Would it really be so bad for her drop the years of hostility and accept him?

But who was she, Hermione Granger, if she didn't give someone a second chance?

"Alright then. We can 'become acquainted,' if that phrase of what this may be suites you."

Draco's eyes whipped up at her.

"Really?"

"Again, you act as if you are surprised."

"Well I am. I didn't think you would say yes."

"It's not like you're proposing to me, Malfoy. You said so yourself, both of us have changed, it can't do any harm to get to know the new forms of one another."

"Okay then. Well now that we're friends, why don't you start by telling me why you're here. Oh, and for future reference, don't call my Malfoy. Call me Draco."

A/N: Thanks for reading! Love the support, so please leave a review! And while I have an overall gist of the plot line, please let me know if there's anything in particular you want to see happen, or if you have any suggestions. Thanks!


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